Blood's Thicker
by Randomnamesuffice
Summary: WIP Title. I'm HORRIBLE at summaries. So here's what you need to know. Grace is 16, Peter's "older" sister. She's been in hiding since Pan's left and is kind of ticked that he doesn't remember. She refuses to tell him that they're related and is reluctant to even help him become the Pan he once was. AND since I 3 Dante Basco, I'm gonna add romance with Rufio! BAM! SO Rufio/OC. R
1. Chapter 1

I've lost track of how long it has been. Ten years? Twenty years? How many more moons must I wait for him to return? No, I have given up on Peter coming home. What I truly want is to come out of this ridiculous hiding. Tinkerbell says I have to stay away from the Lost Boys until the right moment. But when is that? If Peter were in my position, he would be out flying everywhere, doing whatever _he_ wanted, and certainly not what Tink commanded. No, my brother would never let himself be limited to nighttime flies and this painfully small, burnt up house filled with equally painful memories.

Well, not too painful. Remembering isn't the unhappy thing, the fact that this place is filled with cobwebs and dust. No one has played in here for I don't know how long. No nights have been filled with soothing stories from Wendy. No Lost Boys for me to sing to sleep. Just dust. Dust and memories.

While braiding my hair, sitting in Wendy's chair, I wonder what color Peter's hair is now. Would it still be flaming red like mine, slowly turning lighter, or has it become grey through time? It's always a scary thought that my little brother is well over ten years my elder. I slowly turn to face the mirror and stare into by azure eyes. All these questions about Peter and I still haven't dared wonder the most important. Does he remember all of this? If I could look into his eyes, ignoring the possibility that they've also greyed with age, I know I would be able to tell. If he remembered, no matter how dim, he would still have that spark of mischief and adventure he once had. I look away, not letting myself think the worst.

My mind wanders to the Lost Boys, and how they cannot function without a leader. So who took Peter's sword? I knew it couldn't possibly be one of my boys. Nibs, Slightly, Curly and Tootles were all gone from Neverland. The only boy I could consider was Thud Butt, only he would never have the courage to stand up and take charge on his own. No, someone would have to tell him that he's the leader for him to accept it. It had to be someone new, someone just as cocky as Peter was.

"Well whoever it is, he won't be in that position as soon as I get the 'okay' to leave here…" I chuckled to myself as I finished with my waist-long hair.

I don't know how much time had passed, but I jumped at Tink yelling my name from above.

"Grace!"

I've learned from many times of blinding myself not to look directly at her while flying around, so I keep my eyes cast down.

"If you're here to check that I'm still in this cage you call a house, then here I am."

The pixie landed on the table across from me and huffed in exhaustion and, from hearing my jab, irritation, "First off, this _is_ a house as you do recall. Second, it _isn't_ a cage; I just don't want you to be seen…"

"Which you've not once explained the reasoning behind that." I remind her, which was ignored.

"And third," she continued, "I'm not here to check up on you. I need you to go to Cannibal Cove right now."

I look at her now, confused, "Why, all of a sudden…"

She looks past my shoulder to my rapiers and scimitar, "I would bring one of those."

My eyes grow wider, "You want me to infiltrate the Jolly Roger. Why?"

She locks her eyes on mine in full seriousness, "There's someone you need to meet."

I stand up and look down at her, "Is Peter back?" I raise my voice with excitement.

Not bothering to wait for a confirmation, I lunge for one rapier and turn quickly, only to be blinded by Tink right in my line of sight.

"No, Grace. Peter isn't here, well, not yet anyway. He will be, though. Soon." Her tone was urgent, like she didn't have time to explain.

Still rubbing my eyes, I ask, "If not Peter, then who do I need to see on that ship?"

Tink dimmed slightly so I could see her, "Your niece and nephew."


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just an FYI, yes. I am kind of joining the SYFY's NEVERLAND along with this story. I loved their concept of Hook and Peter's relationship. Anywho, just wanted to say that... Ta~**

It was still dark outside, so I didn't have to hide behind the clouds. What I did have to do was get into the hold without being seen. It was difficult, yes, but I had done it so many times, it was as simple as opening a door.

All of the men were either asleep or so drunk, on the verge of unconsciousness. From above, I could see Starkey and Ed Teynte, the first mate and quartermaster laying on the poop deck, each with an empty bottle of rum loosely in hand. Bill Jukes was knocked out on the forecastle deck, his gun laying to the left of him. The rest of the lot were spread out on the main deck, all save for the Captain and Smee. I had a strong feeling they would both be in the former's cabin, and that no one would be watching the children. Why would anyone bother? No one knew they were there.

I waited a couple more seconds and then dashed to the stairs. Even against Tink, I am and always would be the fastest flier in Never Land. I remember many races with Peter, along with many grunts of defeat coming from him. But this moment should not be spent on reminiscing; I needed to get to those children.

Walking down the dark, wet, narrow path, I could hear a girl crying. I turned toward the sound only to freeze in my tracks.

"Come for a family reunion, Grace?" His voice always did annoy me, but him baiting me on… "I'm sorry to have to tell you that your rescue mission was for naught. These children are my property now, and Peter Pan," Hook spat the name like poison, "will come and he _will_ die."

I unarmed myself, dropping my rapier to the floor and kicking it to the side, "I have no quarrel with you, Jimmy," he flinched at the nickname, "and I have no intention of saving these children. I just want to see them." Hook eyed me with his ice blue eyes, trying to catch a lie, "Don't you want to confirm that these children are indeed Pan's?"

Hook pondered for a moment, and relented, "Be quick, and come to the cabin when you've finished."

I glared at him, "Is that an order, Captain?" I spat out in disdain.

"No, my dear, just a polite suggestion." And with that, he left.

I slowly made my way to the cell and looked down. As expected, two children were cowering in fear. The elder one, the boy, was trying to calm his sister to no avail.

"Hello," I tried to make my voice as soothing as possible, "my name is Grace. What's yours?"

The boy glared at me, but said, "Jack Banning, and this is…" I put my finger to my lips, for I wanted to get a good look at the girl.

"Dear girl, why are you crying?"

She looked up and I saw Peter's eyes in her, I regarded the boy and saw the same eyes. Yes, these were indeed Peter's children. "W-who are you?" she stammered.

I smiled at the girl, "My name is Grace, and I am Peter Pan's sister."

Jack snorted, "Yeah right, there is no such thing as Peter Pan."

I tilted my head, "No? Then who was that who just left?"

The girl whispered to Jack, "That was Captain Hook, Jack." She looked at me, "I don't remember a sister in the Peter Pan stories."

"Good. Because that is what I told Wendy to do." She looked at me curiously, "I asked her not to mention me in any of her stories. I'm not one partial to being a side character, I would much rather be the main. Since she was so wrapped up in Peter, I felt that it was their story…"

"So, what about your story?" Jack inquired.

"I don't know. Maybe you both have started it," I smiled, "I really shouldn't stay. Hook will come back if I take too long. I just really wanted to meet you, and know your names." I looked at the girl expectantly.

"Maggie Banning," she smiled.

"Jack and Maggie, it's nice to finally meet you."

"Finally?" They both asked.

"Now I have a question, is your father's name, by any chance, Peter?"

Maggie answered, "Yes, but he's not Peter Pan. Is he?"

I smiled at the girl's enthusiasm, "We shall see, my dear. Now, I will tell you this: Your father will be here to come get you," they sat up straighter at this, "but I cannot tell you whether you will be able to go home yet. Don't worry; I'll make sure you are safe." I stood up, placed my rapier in its hold, and made my way up the stairs.

"Wait," Jack called, "why…"

"Why will I protect you? Well, if your father is who the Old Codfish," Maggie giggled at the name, "thinks, then what does that make me to you?"

I made it up the stairs before I could hear a reply. Taking a deep breath, I flew to the Captain's cabin window. It was open, so I landed in.

"So," Hook was sitting at his desk, cleaning his pistol, "Are they or aren't they?"

I sighed, "They are. Congratulations on not getting the wrong children. Honestly, you knew that they were Peter's children. You probably got them from Wendy's nursery. So why didn't you oppose me seeing them?"

The captain looked at me, "I'm quite insulted that you would think I'd raise my sword, or gun, to a lady."

I scoffed, "You're afraid to raise your sword to me because you know you'd lose, and you know you can't shoot me because I'm too quick."

"Be that as it may," he waved my comment off, "maybe I just wanted for you to see your niece and nephew for the first and last time." He stood up and walked towards me and looked down into my eyes, "Or maybe I'm still hoping that you will join me on this vessel." He put his hand on my shoulder in a fatherly fashion

I pushed him away in anger, "Don't you dare try that on me, Jimmy! You lost all love and respect from me years ago! You lost it the moment you chose that woman over my brother, the boys, and me!"

He grabbed my shoulder forcefully now and raised his pistol to my neck, "I could kill you right now if I wanted to!"

"So could I," I said with deadly coolness, "or do you seem to forget that I'm the reason that only your hand was severed." I pushed him back and pulled my rapier to his collarbone, "How many times has Peter had your life in his hands, Jimmy?" He flinched, "And how many times have I been the one to keep him from killing you?" I lowered my sword and made it to the window, "Remember that." I flew out with senseless speed, in the direction of Wendy's house.

In a matter of a second, I changed my course to Hangman's Tree. To hell with Tink's wishes, I wanted, no needed, to see my boys.


	3. Chapter 3

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: It has come to my attention that the Lost Boy's hideout in the movie **_**Hook**_** is not called Hangman's Tree, but simply that…Lost Boy's Hideout :/ I'm sorry for my inaccuracy, blah, I'm a failure at life, blah emo moment blah. Okay, I'm finished. ENJOY!**

**DISCLAIMER: I sadly do not own the movie ****HOOK ****or the TV Series ****NEVERLAND****. If I did, well, I'd be a happy girl for one thing. I'd also keep Rufio for myself :3 FYI, Aaya is Tiger Lily and Holy Man was the first Indian that Peter made friends with in the ****NEVERLAND**** show. AND Pockets is, "Oh there you are, Peter." And that scene will be coming in about 2 chapters.**

**ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE: I love this story, so I am VERY happy that others enjoy it, too. That being said, I promise I will keep updating this story. It won't be like my other stories that take me a YEAR to get back to _ I just started working and college, so I can't promise that the updates will be frequent. I can and will promise, again, that I WILL UPDATE!**

** Grace: Yeah, sure. **

** Me: Oh, don't give me that tone.**

** Grace: -feigning innocence- What tone?**

** Me: **_**That**_** tone. Your sarcastic tone, the tone that you've convinced yourself is charming.**

** Grace: I do **_**not **_**have a sarcastic tone! **

** Me: You just used it to defend yourself!**

** Grace: I'm English! We always sound either sarcastic or condescending, it's not my fault!**

** Me: *mutters* Peter's English, he doesn't sound like that. But he **_**was**_** raised by Americans…**

** Grace: What was that?**

** Me: **_**Shit…**_** Uh, nothing. Enjoy the chapter, people! OH WAIT! I really don't feel like describing the Lost Boy's place, so forgive me if I leave out shtuff and give a vague sketch. My logic is that since you're reading this, odds are that you've watched the movie and don't need to have someone spell out what it looks like. ****NOW**** enjoy! :P**

Soaring through the skies was such a soothing experience. But even as I felt the cool air brush my cheeks, my mind kept wandering to what Jimmy had said. _"__Maybe I'm still hoping that you will join me on this vessel."_ I had lost track of the times he'd request that I join, and each time I would refuse. I remember only one time that Jimmy almost got me to agree, although he never realized, and that was when he reminded me of when he pulled Peter and I from the workshops and raised us as his own. If it weren't for Peter, I probably would have joined Jimmy in a heartbeat, for no matter what he's done, he took care of us. I knew I could never hate him, not after all those years of care.

Beneath me I saw the Hideout, and I could clearly see, even in the darkness, that the boys had expanded since I'd been gone. Instead of a crowded hole under a tree, almost the whole patch of forestry was made into a fortress, a home. It was almost as if the branches formed bunks for the boys. Another thing that intrigued me was that the boys seemed to have built a railing throughout the whole hideout. I could only think that it was some sort of race track.

I couldn't see _perfectly_ at this time. In fact, all I really saw was outlines of the construction, and the silhouettes of boys getting ready for their slumber.

Not wanting to disturb them, and also wanting to, more or less, obey Tinkerbell's wishes, I flew to the darkest corner of the colossal tree house. My intentions were pure, but my instincts didn't care whether I was seen or not. As soon as my feet touched the wooden floor, I felt a hostile presence close by. Slowly, I drew my rapier and crouched into a defensive position.

Meaning to turn around, I immediately straightened, for I felt a blade touching the middle of my back. I tried to raise my hands, but the person pointing at me pushed the blade slightly into my skin. I subdued my whimper, not wanting to let whoever was behind think that I was frightened.

"Drop the sword and turn around, slowly!" A male voice commanded in hushed authority. His voice was different, not deep like Jimmy's, but not childish like any of the boys. I could immediately deduce that this boy was in his teens like I myself. By that knowledge, I knew who it was, but wouldn't let my heart skip any beat, nor allow my knees to buckle like it often would when he spoke. "Now," he raised his tone in irritation.

I placed my blade back in its hold, unfastened my sheath and dropped it to the ground. I held my hands up as I turned to face him, and flinched slightly as his steel traced my skin, for he never relented in the pressure. Tinkerbell would need to sew up the wound soon. I internally groaned, for I forgot that Tink left to retrieve Peter. The only other one I could get to tend to the laceration was Jimmy, and I was certainly not going back to him, not after everything I said to him.

I faced him, prepared for the worst, and my breath was taken away. He looked so different from when I last saw him. He was…I didn't know how to describe his appearance. I could easily say he was more toned, more tanned, but his clothes and hair, I didn't know what to think. There were only two words I could come up with. Concerning his clothes, tribal; he reminded me of the warriors of the Kaw tribe. And, sadly, the only word I could come up with concerning his hair was skunk. His whole presence actually could be summed up in one word, savage.

Immediately after we made eye contact, his harshness softened and he lowered his sword. I then got a quick look at the piece that he stuck me with, and I held in my shock. He had stabbed me with Peter's sword, the golden blade shined with familiarity that I never thought I would be able to see again. I now knew the reason why Tinkerbell would evade answering my question concerning the sword.

"Are you real?" He asked hesitantly as he slowly stepped closer, almost nose to nose, "Grace?"

I tried not to look affected by my name on his lips, it's been so long since I last had to conceal the strange feeling that consumed me whenever he was near. He lifted his free hand slowly toward my face, and it took incredible will _not _to close the distance. Noticing my internal struggle, and mistaking it for a rejection, he let his hand fall to his side.

Attempting a whimsical tone, I replied, "Why don't you try stabbing me again? For I guess the blood you made me shed isn't enough proof that I am real." I mentally slapped myself, for my try at a lighthearted quip sounded like a steel handed slap to his face.

Realization dawned in his eyes and he dropped the sword to the ground like it burned his flesh. "Grace, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize!" He continued his apologies as he tried to pull me into an embrace. I held my hand up to stop him, and bent to pick up our swords. "I got that, don't strain yourself. We need to treat that cut."

He bent down to grab them for me, " Please lower your voice. And I was just teasing. I'm fine…" I stopped mid-sentence as I felt his hand land on top of mine. It was rough, calloused, but comforting, and I never realized how much bigger his hands were compared to my own.

I tried to remove my hand from under his, but he gripped it tightly, tenderly. I tore my eyes away from our joined hands and looked up to his deep brown eyes, which were full of different emotions and questions. In them, I could see awe, surprise, sadness, and hurt. The hurt in his eyes overthrew all the other feelings I could see. It was almost as if he missed me as much as I him.

"Where have you been? What happened to you?" He asked in a whisper, begged in a whisper.

"Rufio…" I closed my eyes, silently praying I didn't show too much affection in stating his name, "I," I began, but was interrupted by a younger boy's voice. I quickly stood up, and, much to my chagrin, pulled my hand from Rufio's grip. He followed with our swords in hand.

"Rufio? I thought I heard you yelling, is everything alright," Pockets, I could see holding his candle, noticed me and squinted, as if he was willing his eyes not to trick him. He realized that it was me and gasped with a smile on his face, I flew straight to him and covered his mouth. The sudden movement caused my wound to hurt again, and I gasped slightly at the sharp pain.

"Grace, you need to be treated. Let me," Rufio began, but I cut him off.

"Hush, I am alright. I can handle it, I've gotten much worse injuries." I heard a muffled noise, and remembered where my hand was, "Oh, I'm sorry, Pockets. You need to be quiet, though, alright?"

He nodded and I released him, and immediately after, he attacked me in an embrace. I ignored the pain as best as I could, but the little boy let go and looked at his hand, which was covered in blood from my top. He looked up at me and I smiled, taking a clean part of my clothes and wiped his hand clean.

"What happened to you, Grace? Where have you been? Is Peter," I stopped him short before he could ask anything about my brother. I didn't want to answer him right away, especially with Rufio right within earshot.

"I can't stay tonight," he, and Rufio, were about to protest, but let me continue, "but I'll come back tomorrow. So tomorrow I can answer whatever you want to ask." I smiled at Pockets, who returned it with his own face consuming grin.

"Okay, I can't wait to see the look on all the others faces when I tell them you're here!"

"No!" I almost yelped, and both stared at me shocked, "I don't want them knowing I'm here tonight, you need to keep this secret. Can you do that for me?"

I knew Pockets could keep quiet, for he hardly ever spoke anyway. My gaze moved up to Rufio, who was staring at me curiously, "Why don't you want them to know?"

Pockets answered for me, proud that he knew me so well, " Because Grace wants to make a show of it, right?" I gave him a wink in reply, "And, she doesn't like the guys seeing her hurt, right Grace?"

I smiled at the six year-old, "That's right. Now, I have to go, and you should get to bed, both of you." I stood and started to lift to the sky, but Pockets lightly grabbed my ankle.

"Grace?" I looked down to him and knew what was coming, "Could you, you know," I waited for him to finish, "sing me to sleep? You don't have to sing 'til I'm asleep, just one time is okay."

I could never say no to his pleading eyes. "Alright, just one time, though." He beamed when I drifted down and he clung to my hand and led me to his bunk.

"I'll, um, just leave you now. Goodnight, Grace." Rufio said awkwardly, and looked in my eyes, like he wanted to say more, but turned toward, as far as I knew, to his bunk.

"Goodnight, Rufio," Pockets and I said in unison. We turned back toward his bed, and the small child kept looking back to where we parted from Rufio.

"You know, he really missed you," I looked down at him incredulously, "Rufio," he clarified.

"Well, I would hope that he's not the only one who missed me." I said slowly.

Pockets looked at me with squinty eyes, "You know I don't mean it like that!" He exclaimed as we made it into his bunk. I lifted him to his bed and tucked him in. He smiled and his eyes were already drooping down in exhaustion.

"I know I'm not Wendy, but was that alright?" He nodded, "And I know that's not what you meant."

"You and him are kinda like how she and Peter were," I smiled at that.

"Didn't you want a song?" He nodded slowly, so I knew I wouldn't need to sing the whole thing for him to sleep, "Alright, shut your eyes," he did so and I began softly, not wanting to wake the others.

_When you're all alone  
far away from home  
there's a gift the angel sent  
when you're alone._

Everyday must end  
but the night's our friend  
angels always send a star  
when you're alone.

At night when I'm alone  
I lie awake and wonder,  
Which of them belongs to me,  
which one I wonder?

And any star I choose  
watches over me  
so I know I'm not alone  
when I'm here on my own

Isn't that a wonder?  
When you're alone  
you're not alone  
not really alone.

I ended the first half and he was sound asleep, I kissed his forehead and stood. Quietly, I left the bunk and made it to the skies. The pain of my wound was too great to make it back to Wendy's house, but thankfully, I could see that the Kaw tribe still had the light from their fires. I hoped Aaya or Holy Man was awake, for I didn't know how much longer I would be able to wait. The blood was flowing far too much for a mere scratch, I'll have to give hell to Rufio for this. That thought made me smile a bit.

**R&R PLEASE! THEY'VE MADE ME VERY HAPPY! :3**


	4. Chapter 4

**LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I APOLOGIZE! I've had this chapter in my notebook for WEEKS and I haven't had any time to type it or make it more "pretty" AKA "longer". Anywhozle, here it is and again...SORRY! I'm already typing the 5th so expect it within this week or next week. :(((( Blahhh**

I was resting on my stomach while Aaya took care of my wound. She said it wasn't as bad as it felt, only that Rufio somehow managed to hit one of my deeper, more sensitive scars. It figured that he would make a minor flesh wound feel like I was on the brink of death.

She was finishing up the stitches when her voice broke the silence. "You're quiet, Grace. Are you thinking of Rufio?"

"Yes," I replied, "I mean no."

"Which is it?" she inquired.

"It's neither. Or maybe it's both. I _am_ thinking of him, but he's not the only thing on my mind." I drifted to silence, hoping she would not push the conversation, which did not happen.

"Who else has got you so confused?"

"Why does it have to be a person?"

She hesitated, "Was it that pirate?" Aaya spat the last word with distain. I could not take offence to her ferocity.

"He has a name, Aaya. He _is _a human."

"Having a name does not make him, or any of them, human."

I shut my eyes in frustration, "Alright, enough."

She continued, "You are blind to the evil in his soul."

"I know he has made wrong choices," I began.

"Ever since you all came here, he has made, as you call it, 'wrong choices'," she started to raise her voice, then remembered that the rest of the tribe was asleep, "How am I supposed to believe that he was ever more than a monster?"

"You're asking how? Here is how; there is me, there _was_ Peter," she flinched at my brother's name, "and all the boys." She lowered her head in defeat, "Look, I am not asking you to stop hating him, or even respect him as a human being. All I am asking is that you respect me and _my_ wishes, and that is to not say anything ill of him in my presence."

She nodded, "why do you still defend him, though? After all that he has done…" She cut the last thread on my stitches and tapped my shoulder to let me know I could move.

I sighed and pulled myself into a sitting position, "Because," my voice raised in the way I was questioning myself, unsure whether or not to continue.

"Yes?" she pressed.

My whole body slumped in defeat, "Because…No matter what he has done, no matter how much he has changed, he still raised me." A single tear managed to escape my eye and slid down my cheek to the floor.

"I have tried to hate him, to feel the way Peter did when Jimmy betrayed us, but I still see the man who rescued us from the factories," I was going to continue, but Aaya cut me off.

"The what?" she looked confused.

"The sweat shops, basically child slavery." I waved her question away in boredom, "Anyway, he took care of us, gave us a home, a family."

Aaya's head fell again, as if she felt guilty even asking.

"You ask why I defend him," she raised her head slowly, "That is why. Because no matter what, he is the only father I have ever known."

Silence loomed over us again, so Aaya changed the subject, "You are alright now. You are welcome to stay here while it heals."

"Thank you, but I can't. Tinkerbell is expecting me to be back at the house, I wasn't even supposed to go see the boys."

"She cannot be mad at you for wanting to see Rufio," she smirked. "Anyway, you really should not fly with the stitched. It might reopen the wound, especially the way you fly."

I gave her a pointed look, "Funny. And don't think that first thing didn't pass my ears. I didn't go for him; I wanted to see the boys."

"Yes, and Rufio was just a nice inconvenience."

"Okay, I'm leaving." I slowly got to my feet and rigidly walked out of the tent, all Aaya did was laugh.

I was about to rise when I heard her voice coming closer, "Grace, wait! You really should not fly."

"I really should get home. Tink," I began.

"I am sure she would understand."

"But she'll go to the house first and there isn't any time for her to come searching for me."

"Why is there no time," her eyes narrowed, "why was Hook on your mind. What is going on?"

I looked at her incredulously, "You really don't know?" She looked at me with a blank expression, "You all really don't pay attention to the issues everyone goes through."

"We do not bother ourselves with the pirates, unless they become a threat to us or the tree spirits…again."

"Hook kidnapped some children," Aaya gasped, "They are my niece and nephew," she looked at me blankly again, "As in they are Peter's children."

Aaya's eyes widened, and her eyebrows nearly left her forehead to join her dark mane. She whispered something in Kaw, then in English, "He's grown up?" her voice was somewhere between miserable and envious, "He has children? Has he forgotten?"

I didn't know how to answer that without causing her more pain; I always knew how she felt about my brother. My heart reached out to her, especially remembering her jealousy towards Wendy. I felt the same when Jane came and Rufio held interest in her, given it was not as intense as Peter and Wendy's relationship.

"I am not sure," I simply replied, "I hope not."

"Did not the tree spirits try to remove his memories? Could they do something to bring it back if he does not remember?" Aaya looked hopeful.

I tilted my head in thought, "I did not think of that, I'm not certain if they would even be willing to help us again." An idea struck me, "I need to go now. Thank you, Aaya." And I headed home immediately with determination and hope.


	5. Chapter 5

**I AM SO SORRY lol I know I apologize a lot but I truly feel horrible that I haven't updated. Things have been hectic at work and school. Also, there was a crisis recently so I haven't even thought about writing. I'm not going to promise any updates soon, but I will update. I will continue this story and I WILL finish it, someday. **

Here we go…Something happened once Grace came home, and she had a discussion with Tink, but I'm not going to tell you what yet so...

_The morning after…_

I sat on a rusted wooden barrel for hours, waiting. I sat there staring at the ridiculous looking bundle of sheets slowly rising up and down. Up. Down. Occasionally, there would be a hitch and I would sit straighter, prepared for whatever came out of the bundle, but it would cease and continue the slow rhythm of breathing.

I didn't know how to react once he woke, and I was too afraid to unravel the sheets to see what he looked like. From the size of the wad, it was clear that he was a grown man, and rather "bulky" at that. He was much different from the skin and bone Peter I once knew.

His size I was prepared for, as well as whatever his age would be. I was still trying to figure out how our reunion would enact, or if it would even be a reunion. Although I was hoping he would remember everything, I still had the strangest feeling that he wouldn't. And if the latter occurred, I swore that I would do whatever was in his best interest, even at the cost of my own happiness.

I was pulled from my reverie as I heard the sheets rip slightly, and I heard a deep voice coming through it. "What a nightmare, Moira!" I looked over to the sheets and saw a finger poking through a tiny hole. I tilted my head slightly at the name Moira. I already knew that she was Peter's wife, Wendy's granddaughter, but I was confused that he would be calling her name. Perhaps he thought all of last night was a dream, but as soon as I thought that, he tore through the sheet and stood staring at the crocodile clock. I flew up and hid behind some boxes. Tinkerbell soon tore after him and he walked around his little safe-haven. He was standing on a cargo hold; barely anyone lurked around there unless it was essential, and only one drunken man was passed out where he was standing. He was listening to all the different merchants trying to sell their goods and started to walk down the stairs.

"Excuse me, but is there a payphone around here?" I didn't know what a payphone was, but I rolled my eyes at his stupidity. The man looked up and Peter stood straight, "That is so real."

"Peter, get back here," Tinkerbell yelled in a hushed tone, "Get down. Get low. Hide!" She looked at me imploring for help.

"He can't hear you, Tink. Your regular voice doesn't hold much volume as it is, what makes you think a whisper will?"

"Well, you go get him then. Don't just hide like a codfish."

I hesitated, but went ahead anyway. I quickened my pace slightly when he was getting closer to some more pirates. I made it to him before he got too close and before they noticed him. I grabbed his arm violently and pulled him into a corner.

"Excuse me, but what the hell is your problem?" He looked at me in the eyes and that was it. The moment I dreaded. I saw his green eyes, still as bright as ever, but nothing else. No recognition, no hint of mischief, nothing. He didn't remember me, Tinkerbell, Tigerlily, or anyone. This is what I feared and I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to think or feel. And the strange thing was all I _could _feel was anger. I couldn't fathom why I would feel anger, I was prepared for him not remembering us, but the feeling came just the same.

"Hello?" He commanded, waving his hand in my face. I jumped and glared at him with disdain and removed my hand like it had just been burned.

"Have you gone mad?" I hissed.

"Unless I'm dreaming, yes I think I have."

"You can't go up to those pirates completely defenseless, especially dressed like that."

He looked down at his apparel and looked back at me, "I'm sorry, but this is Armani. I don't think I can look any better than that."

"What is Armani?" He was about to explain, but I cut him off, "I don't care," suddenly an idea came to mind, "If you think you look so well, then by all means, go talk to them." I gestured to the direction we came in, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

**THIS IS ONLY A TEASER. I don't think I'm going to keep this around, but if you like, then I'll add on to the scene. Tata~!**


	6. To My Readers

I'm sorry, guys. I know I promised to update but I can't at the present. I'm in a dark place right now and haven't felt the urge to write, or do anything for that matter. I've found that I have to force myself to get up every morning and going about my day as if I haven't a care in the world. I don't want to get into detail, really. But if concerned, feel free to ask me. I'll be more than happy to tell you of my petty and selfish woes.

On a slightly optimistic note, hopefully this funk I am in will provide me the inspiration I need to give you the best story I can give. Honestly, I love and appreciate all of you who have been reading and encouraging me to continue. You are all the best and deserve to have a finished story. And also, Grace's story is one that needs to be told.

And since I am a sadist at heart, I'm going to give you a hint on where the story's headed. Well, not exactly a hint, but it's something I think is important. The song that Grace sang (which is the one Maggie sings in the movie) connects everyone in a surprising way that only she knows.


End file.
